More Than Life
by MandaPanda2
Summary: A brief look at Olivia's life before, during, and after a trip to visit Gregory in prison.
1. Raging Storms

Disclaimer: All characters (unless otherwise specified) belong to Aaron Spelling, E. Duke Vincent, Gary Tomlin, NBC, et al and are used here strictly for non-profit entertainment purposes.  
Rating: PG 14  
Genre: Angst/Drama  
Spoilers: Entire series, just to be safe.  
Summary: A brief look at Olivia's life before, during, and after a trip to visit Gregory in prison. (Takes place four years after the original series ended.)  
Note: This narrative follows documented "SB" canon and is in no way related to any of my other stories.

* * *

Part 1: "Raging Storms" 

Dark black clouds roll angrily across the sky. Loud claps of thunder violently shake the house down to its foundation. Bolts of lightening pierce the sky.

Olivia Richards lies in her bed, safe and protected from the storm raging outside. There is however, no protection from the storm raging in her dreams. She shifts in her sleep and moans softly.

"Olivia, what you're really asking me is, 'did I ever love you?'" He looked away for a moment before saying in a voice thick with emotion, "More than life." He stared at me intensely, almost daring me to contradict him. "Does that surprise you? You know Olivia, in the beginning, all I could think about is how much we could soar together."

With a small sigh, I leaned in closer to him and asked, "You sure I wasn't just along for the ride?"

"You deserved the best. And, nothing made me happier or more excited than the prospect of giving 'the best' to you." He reached out tentatively and covered my hands with his. Looking down at our intertwined hands, he whispered, "Your life was going to be singular. Exceptional. Extraordinary. And, nothing was going to stop me from making it so." With a small smile, almost wistful, he looked back up at me.

"Gregory…" I whispered.

"But you…did," he said as pain clouded his expression. "You stopped me, Olivia. In the end, you were the obstacle I-, I couldn't overcome."

Olivia's eyes fly open and she sits up in bed, gasping for breath. She leans back against the head board, rubbing her eyes. As her breath steadies, she reaches over to the empty side of the bed and rubs it tenderly. "Oh, Gregory," she whispers sadly.

A loud rumble of thunder drowns out her sob and rattles the windows as a crackle of lightening illuminates the bedroom for a brief moment. It was in that moment that the bedroom door flies open and six-year old Trey barrels in, clutching a worn stuffed dog.

"Mommy!" is the only thing he cries before jumping into Olivia's bed and clinging to her.

"Shh, darling," she whispers as she bottles her grief and rubs his back comfortingly. "Shh. I'm here."

The small child sucks on his thumb and turns into Olivia's chest as another thunder clap makes him jump. "Storms are scary," he mumbles.

Olivia gently tugs Trey's thumb out of his mouth. "They're just loud, sweetie. That's all." She hugs him closer to her and repeats, "They're just loud."

Trey only whimpers in response. As the storm's fury intensifies, Olivia's soothing backrub and soft words eventually lull him into a fitful sleep. She moves the little boy off her lap and lays him down next to her. She slides back under the covers and pulls him closer to her. The sporadic flashes of lightening allows her to look down at his face. She brushes a tendril of hair out of his eyes and notes to herself that he needs a haircut.

_I'll mention it to Cole later today when he comes by to pick up Trey_, she decides. Olivia turns her head over to read the time on the clock and is dismayed to read that it is only four a.m. Sighing, she eases herself into a sitting position and gently slides out of the bed. She leans back over the bed and places a kiss on Trey's forehead, while pulling up the covers around him. With her robe on, Olivia leaves the bedroom quietly after leaving the door partially open.

When she gets downstairs, she turns on the lights and blinks as they slowly glow on. The sight of the living room in the house where she spent the majority of her adult life pleases her to no end. As she sinks down into the leather sofa, she recalls a conversation she had with Bette several years ago…

May, 2000

"You're what!"

Olivia pursed her lips and glared at Bette. "You heard me."

"Well, of course I heard you," Bette sighed. "What I don't understand why you are moving. You can't leave…Your family is here."

"Where do you think I'm going?" Olivia asked with a small smile. "Do you really think I'd leave Sunset Beach after everything?"

Bette's mouth dropped open in surprise before turning into a huge grin. "Oh, Livy. Livy, Livy…Don't EVER do that again!" She pulled Olivia into an embrace. "But I'm still confused then…Why are you moving?"

"Because I hate this house. I never liked it. So, I'm getting rid of it."

"House hunting will be fun," Bette noted as she sat down on the couch next to Olivia. "Have you found a realtor yet?"

"Better than that." Olivia faced Bette and clasped her hands. "I've found and purchased a new house!"

"So soon? My, my, my that certainly is impressive. So tell me, what's the new place like?"

"Well," Olivia said slowly, "you're already familiar with it."

"Toots, I'm confused…I'm already familiar with it?"

Olivia nodded. "Yes…I'm moving back to One Ocean Avenue."

"Olivia," Bette asked softly after a moment, "are you sure that's a wise decision?"

"Of course it is!" Olivia snaps. "This monstrosity it too big! Caitlin and Cole are moving into a condo by the marina. Sean is barely here as it is. Trey and I will be much happier there."

"Livy, One Ocean Avenue is about the same size as this 'monstrosity', as you put it." Bette watched with interest as Olivia's gaze shifted down to the ground. "Why don't you tell me the real reason you're moving?" She stared intently at Olivia. "It's alright to say it," she suggested quietly after several moments of silence. "You want to go back to the home that you shared with Gregory."

Olivia shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "Is that so bad?"

"I don't know," Bette sighed. "I think it might do more harm than good though. Toots, they are sending Greggy away for a long time. AJ mentioned that he'll be lucky if he gets 25 years to life." She watched as Olivia choked back a sob before collapsing onto the sofa. "Is living in the house where you and Greggy-poo spent so many years together in your best interests?" She reached out and placed her hand on her sobbing friend's shoulder. "Is it?" she repeated.

Olivia looked at Bette through tear filled eyes. "I don't know," she whispers with a sob. "But I-, I can't stay here. He was married to Annie here, not me." She wiped the tears off of her face. "I'm going back to my home…The one that he bought for ME when we first married." She jutted out her chin defiantly and hissed, "You can't make me change my mind."

Bette stood up with Olivia and watched her walk over to the wet bar and sip some seltzer. "Livy, I'll support you. You know I will. I just want to make sure that you aren't setting yourself up for more pain."

Olivia straightened her back and turned to face Bette. "I'm not. Everything will be fine now that I can go home."

Tossing her hands up in defeat, Betted said, "Fine. If this is what you want-"

"It is."

"-then I'm happy for you. I always did like that old house." Bette paused, as another thought entered her mind. "By the way, how can you afford to buy One Ocean Avenue? Didn't the courts freeze most of the family assets while Greggy's trial takes place?"

"It…worked out."

Bette looked sharply at Olivia and took a step closer to her. "What does THAT mean?"

"Just what I said," Olivia repeated vaguely. "Everything worked out."

Bette shook Olivia's arm. "Mommy!"

…Olivia startles awake as Trey jumps on top of her.

"Why'd you come down here?" he asks in a sing-song voice.

"Mommy couldn't sleep," she yawns. "I see you slept well though."

Trey sits up and smiles broadly at his mother. "I like your bed…It's _way_ bigger than mine!" He looks out the patio doors to the beach and the bright sunshine. "Can we go swimming today?"

"You'll have to ask Daddy," Olivia says as she stands and swings Trey up onto her hip. "He's coming over to get you today."

"Hooray! Can I learn how to skim board?"

"No," she states strongly. "When you're older, Daddy or Sean will teach you how."

Trey glowers as Olivia sits him on the kitchen counter before going into the refrigerator for juice. Though only six, he quickly learned, as all children do the best way to manipulate their parents. He sighs sadly and looks at his mother with sad eyes and a frown. "Please, Mommy?"

Olivia turns around from where she is cutting up an orange. She smiles briefly but repeats, "No." She passes Trey the plate of orange slices and a cup of juice. "But I'm sure your Daddy has fun things planned for the two of you today. So cheer up," she says as chucks his chin, "but _no_ skim boarding."

Trey glares at Olivia but takes the plate of oranges and stuffs a slice in his mouth. "This is the worst news I _ever_ heard," he says with a mouth full of orange. "I don't know how I'll recover."

Olivia stifles a laugh and manages to say with a mock seriousness, "I think you'll manage, darling."

* * *

Cole Deschanel knocks on the massive glass and wooden door. He waits patiently and smiles as the door slowly opens. 

"Hey big guy!" he exclaims when he sees Trey is the one pulling it open. He bends down and pulls the smiling boy up into his arms. "How are you?" he asks, walking into the foyer and closing the door behind him. He nods at Rose, who places a basket of beach toys on the floor by the sofa. "Uh-oh…Someone wants to go to the beach?"

Trey nods eagerly and flails his legs in attempt to get down. He bounces over to the basket and starts pulling out toys after Cole lets him go.

"Here's my pail and my shovel and my dinosaurs and my race cars," Trey jabbers. "And the waves are really big and loud…Can we go fishing? Maybe we'll catch a big shark!"

Cole chuckles. "Why don't we just stay on the beach today?"

"But Daddy," he whines, as only a six year old can, "Sean and me went fishing and it was _so_ much fun! We took a boat and everything!"

"A boat, huh? Which boat?"

Trey shrugs. "I dunno. Sean said it was his daddy's. It was _really_ big and Sean said it was named after Mommy."

Cole sighs and sits down on the sofa. _Even from prison, Gregory's shadow still hangs over us_, he thinks to himself. _It doesn't help that my son is living in the house that Gregory called home for so many years_. He reaches over and ruffles Trey's hair. "Well, _we'll_ have a good time playing on the beach."

"Ok Daddy." Trey looks up and grins. "Daddy, can you teach me how to skim board?"

"Well-" Cole starts to say.

"Armando Deschanel! I told you this morning that you were too young," Olivia admonishes as she walks down the stairs and into the living room. "Didn't I?"

Trey nods and hangs his head. "When I'm older, Daddy or Sean will teach me," he recites with a small sigh.

"That seems fair, doesn't it Trey?" Cole asks. The little boy shrugs his shoulders and resumes playing with his dinosaurs.

"Cole," Olivia says as she drops her heeled sandals on the floor before stepping into them, "he needs a haircut. Just a trim and not too long over the ears."

Cole nods. "What time should I bring him back?"

Olivia glances down at Trey briefly. "I'll leave that up to you, but not _too_ late. He didn't sleep well last night because of the storm," she whispers conspiratorially. "Also, if I'm not home, leave Trey with Sean because he'll be here."

"Where are you going?"

"To see Gregory," she replies softly.

"Hey, that's Sean's daddy!" Trey exclaims. "His boat is _huge_!"

Cole and Olivia both look down to where Trey sits on the floor, lining up his dinosaurs. The young boy is too engrossed in his game to notice the look of pain that stabs his mother's face or the fury that flashes across his father's.

Olivia clears her throat. "Not too late," she reiterates to Cole as she bends down. "Trey, give Mommy a kiss."

Trey leans up and kisses Olivia before throwing his arms around her neck. "I love you, Mommy!"

Olivia smiles and closes her eyes. "I love you too, sweetie." She gives him a final squeeze before standing back up. With another smile and a quick wave, she is out the front door, only pausing at the mirror to check her reflection.

As the door closes behind her, Cole mutters, "She'll never learn." He shakes his head sadly as he bends down to Trey's level. "Come on big guy…Let's hit the beach."

Trey looks up at Cole with wide eyes. "Oh no, Daddy. Mommy says I'm not allowed to hit anyone and that I'm to keep my hands to myself."

Cole laughs out loud. "Well," he says between laughs, "you must always listen to Mommy. She's usually right. Come on…Race you to the beach?"

Trey is up like a flash and out the door before Cole has a chance to stand. _Oh man_, he thinks, _I'm going to get a workout keeping up with him today_.


	2. 598GR 704 1

(See first part for disclaimer, notes, spoilers, etc.)

Pt 2: "598GR-704-1"

As she has done twice a month for the last four years, Olivia makes the four hour roundtrip journey north on the highway to the federal penitentiary to see Gregory. This weekend visit is no different from any of the other one's.

Bryan, the chauffeur, eases the Lincoln Towncar through traffic on the congested roadway. Olivia leans forward and adjusts the air conditioning vent before sitting back against the cool leather of the backseat.

"Good news, Mrs. Richards," Bryan says as he flips his cell phone shut. "The highway patrol just issued a bulletin saying that the accident causing all his traffic has been cleared. So, assuming we encounter no other disasters, we should be at the prison in just over an hour."

"Thank you, Bryan." Olivia's gaze shifts to the passing scenery that zips by as Bryan passes the accident site and increases his speed. She extends her finger and presses the button that raises the privacy divider. After it closes, she reaches into her purse and removes her cell phone. She enters in a long number and holds the phone to her ear.

"Bienvenue à Genève Royal Banque," the automated voice says pleasantly.

Olivia follows the voice prompts and keys in her ten-digit account number. She is transferred to an operator who only asks for the secure access codes. As she waits for the authorization to be verified, Olivia thinks back to the day that all this secrecy started…

January 31, 2000

"Mrs. Richards?"

Olivia looked up from the story she was reading to Trey. "What is it Rose?"

"A gentleman is waiting to speak with you downstairs. He says that he is one of the lawyers for Mr. Richards."

Olivia nodded and passed the half-asleep Trey to Rose. "Don't leave the pacifier with him," she instructed. "I'm determined to wean him off of it by his second birthday."

Rose nodded and sat down in the rocking chair with the toddler.

Olivia walked down stairs and over to the man who stood by the grand piano. The strange man must have heard her approach, for he turned around and extended his hand. She stared at his hand suspiciously and stated, "I know all of Gregory's lawyers…and you aren't one of them."

The man smiled pleasantly. "Excuse me for saying so, but you know his defense lawyers. I am an estate lawyer retained by Mr. Richards. My name is Jonas Alexandar."

Though still skeptical, Olivia shook the man's hand. "What can I do for you, Mr. Alexandar?"

"Please, call me 'Jonas'…and it isn't about what you can do for me. Rather, it's about what I can do for you." He gestured to the sofa. "May we sit?"

Olivia nodded and took a seat in the armchair next to the sofa. "What do you mean by what you can do for me?"

"Well," Jonas said as he unsnapped his briefcase and opened it, "as I said, I was retained by Mr. Richards shortly after he was taken into federal custody a month ago."

"I wasn't aware of that."

Jonas looked at Olivia briefly for a moment. "It was understood that my retainer would be held in the strictest of confidence. Other than Mr. Richards and myself, you are the only person who knows about it."

"I'm sorry," Olivia said as her eyebrow bent in confusion, "but I'm confused."

"Forgive me," Jonas said sincerely. "Mr. Richards requested I make this as easy as possible for you." He removed several manila folders stamped 'confidential' and 'eyes only'. "As I am sure you know, Mr. Richards' divorce from Annie Douglas became final last week. As stipulated by their prenuptial agreement, she receives a one-time payment of ten million dollars. Nothing more, but nothing less."

"Excuse me," Olivia interrupted, "but Gregory's assets were frozen after he was remanded to federal custody until the start of his trial because the courts think he is a flight risk. How does Annie expect the settlement to be paid out?"

"Oh, I doubt it will," Jonas said with a hint amusement. "Already she has instructed her lawyers to file briefs requesting the injunction be reversed. However, she won't get anywhere until the trial is over, if she's lucky. You, on the other hand," Jonas continued, "are much luckier."

"How so?"

"Much of what Mr. Richards did with his finances before he was apprehended is still a mystery. However, after speaking to him and reviewing the documentation he directed me to, some of it becomes clearer." He paused to confirm that Olivia still followed him and was pleased to see that she did. "Whether he anticipated his arrest or was attempting to flee again, I do not know. What I do know is that as 'Tobias', Mr. Richards began to direct large portions of his personal wealth and assets into several off-shore bank accounts."

"Isn't that…illegal?"

"Perhaps," Jonas said easily. "However, I believe in a little doctrine known as 'attorney-client privilege.' No one, other than the government, would benefit from freezing those accounts. I simply adhered to my client's wish that the accounts be kept secret."

"So," Olivia asked, "why tell me?"

Jonas paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Mr. Richards wanted it made clear that other than his lawyers, you were the only person that he trusted. He also wanted me to inform you that despite what the law said, he still considered you his wife." Jonas paused again at Olivia's sharp intake of breath. "As such, he instructed me to condense all of the off-shore accounts into one large account…available only to you." He watched with concern as all of the color drained out Olivia's face and she gripped the arms of the chair. "Mrs. Richards? Are you alright?"

Olivia gasped for breath and said shakily, "I'm-, I'm fine. Please, continue."

Jonas nodded. "He's instructed me to tell you that you are free to use the money at your discretion."

"Why is he doing this?" Olivia asked softly after a moment as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"It is my impression," Jonas started, "that Mr. Richards wants to make sure that you are provided for. You, your children with Mr. Richards, and…your son." He reached into his inner suit pocket and passed Olivia a starched linen handkerchief embroidered with the initials "GR." As she gaped at the handkerchief with tears streaming down her face, Jonas said quietly, "He thought you would need this."

Olivia took the handkerchief and examined it, as if trying to detect some trace of Gregory from it. With her finger, she gently traced the curve of his initials emblazoned in navy blue silk on the white linen. "Did he say anything else?" she asked as she turned her pleading eyes on Jonas.

Out of the briefcase, he pulled a long and slim envelope. He passed it to Olivia and felt his heart break when she sobbed at the sight of her name written on the face of the envelope in Gregory's hand. "He asked that you read this after I leave."

Olivia nodded and took the envelope, leaving it in her lap.

"I know the last thing you want to hear is details about the Swiss bank account, but you need to reset all the security access codes." Jonas took the top manila folder and passed it to Olivia. "The account is issued through the private bank, Genève Royal Banque, and is protected by the 'Banking Act of 1934.' That means that the bank is prohibited from revealing any information about you, as their client, or the contents of your account. The account itself is anonymous and numbered. The bank only knows you as an account number." He passed Olivia several brochures in a folder. "These explain in greater detail the 'Banking Act of 1934', the information on the Genève Royal Banque, and the Swiss government's policy on anonymous accounts." He closed the briefcase and snapped it shut. He passed Olivia a small white business card from the pocket of his suit. "That card has a phone number for the Genève Royal Banque, the account number, and the default passwords. You MUST call within the hour to reset all access codes. After you do, burn that card." Jonas paused until Olivia nodded. "If you wish," he continued, "you can arrange for automatic monthly deposits from the Swiss account into your bank account here in Sunset Beach. The money will bounce through banks all over Europe and North America before it winds up in the Sunset Beach account. After all that, it will just look like dividend payments from stocks." He stood up and looked down at Olivia, who sat frozen on the armchair. "I know this is a lot to deal with today," he said softly as he passed her a second business card, "but I am here to help you. Please call me if there is anything you need."

"Thank you," Olivia said softly as she stood up and placed Jonas' business card with the stack of paperwork he left her.

Jonas held up his hand. "No, Mrs. Richards. I can show myself out. It was a pleasure finally meeting you but you need to call the bank…right now. Goodbye." He turned on his heel and strode out of the living room.

When she was sure the front door clicked shut, Olivia hurried into Gregory's study and sat down at his massive desk. She picked up the phone and dialed the international phone number for the Genève Royal Banque.

…After authorizing a small transfer from the Swiss account to her Sunset Beach account, Olivia snaps her cell phone shut and returns it to her purse. As she does, her finger grazes the worn edge of an envelope. With a small sigh, she pulls out the envelope that has yellowed slightly in the four years she's had it. She opens the flap and pulls out the letter. _This is a cruel ritual I put myself through twice a month_, Olivia reflects as she unfolds the letter and starts to read.

Olivia,

If you are reading this, Jonas Alexandar has just been to see you. I wish that it did not have to be this way, but circumstances require it to be so.

There are many things that I want to say to you. So many things I wanted to say when I saw you last. In the jail, you asked me if I had ever loved you. If you recall, my response was "more than life." What I should have added was "always and forever." Amo Olivia Aeternus.

Olivia puts the letter down and closes her eyes. She sighs deeply after several moments before continuing to read.

Liv, no one can (or will) ever replace you in my heart and I assure you I do have one.

You are the most precious person in my life and the only person I trust at this point. Yet, there were so many years when we did not trust each other. It was when I forgot to trust you and our love that things fell apart.

I loved you from the first moment I saw you. And I'll love you until the day I die. You-

"Mrs. Richards? We're here," Bryan says, lowering the privacy divider slightly.

Olivia quickly folds the letter back into the envelope and places it back in her purse. "Thank you. I'll be back in two hours."

* * *

The federal penitentiary enforces strict rules regarding prison visits. Each visitor, in addition to signing the logbook, must go through a metal detector and allow whatever belongings they bring with them to be thoroughly searched. The actual visit takes place in a covered outdoor patio, the perimeter of which is lined with both barbed wire and armed guards, who are trained to shoot first and ask questions later.

Each prisoner is allotted two two-hour visits twice a month, regardless of how many visitors they get. In the case of Gregory Richards, better known now as "Prisoner 598GR-704-1", Olivia has always occupied those visits.

Gregory shuffles into the visitor's bay in shackles and a prison issued orange jumpsuit. The guard directs Gregory to sit on the bench of the worn wooden picnic table. He removes the handcuffs from Gregory's wrists but chains his feet to the elevated iron ring on the ground beneath the table.

As the guard walks away, Gregory flexes his wrists and grimaces slightly as the bones pop. He folds his hands on the table and stares intently at the chain link gate that the visitors enter through.

The surface of the wooden table is rough beneath his hands. Behind him, another inmate coughs and a loud bell sounds overhead. A moment later, several guards materialize by the gate and begin the arduous task of unlocking it. Another guard steps through and gestures the visitors in.

Olivia stands out like a rose on a snow-covered hill. She has grown her hair out and it cascades over her bare shoulders and down her back. Her royal blue blouse and white skirt accent her golden tan and add intensity to her already blue eyes.

He watches her scan the crowd until she locates him and he sees her smile with relief. As she walks over to him, one of the other inmates openly leers at her until Gregory's cold glare forces him to turn around.

_She's lost weight_, Gregory thinks as she sits down across from him. _But she's never looked lovelier_. He offers a small smile as she reaches out and takes his hand.

"As always, you're a breath of fresh air in an otherwise unbearable situation," he says softly while taking in every inch of her up close. The sparkle in her eyes…The way her lips bend into a tender smile…The curve of her naked shoulder…The delicate rise and fall of her chest.

The color slowly rises in her neck and up to her cheeks as she squeezes his hand.

"Time stands still between your visits," he continues.

Olivia raises one eyebrow and tilts her head to the side slightly, causing her hair to slide off her shoulder. "Is that so?"

With his eyes, Gregory follows the line of her neck down to the base, where a sterling silver heart shaped pendant rests in the hollow of her throat. Her blouse rests off the shoulder and dips into a "v" at her cleavage.

As if realizing where his attention had drifted to, Olivia sits up straighter. Gregory grins sheepishly and locks eyes with her. With his thumb, he gently rubs the inside of her wrist. He sees her shift and he immediately removes his hands from her, folding them beneath his chin. He can smell her perfume on his thumb.

Olivia reaches out slowly and cups his cheek.

He closes his eyes and leans into her touch. Her palm is soft and cool. _If we were anywhere else_, Gregory notes, _she'd be enveloped in my arms and.._. His eyes open as her hand gently retreats from his cheek and locks with his hand again.

Her face is gentle, but her eyes reveal the regret and pain she feels.

_You never could hide your feelings, Liv…Your eyes give it all away_, he thinks. His eyes fall on the hollow of her throat, where the heart pendant rests. He wishes it were his lips that got to claim that sensitive spot.

Her chest quivers as she takes a breath, causing the heart to move and glitter.

Gregory reaches out and traces the thin chain down her neck to the coveted spot. He toys with the pendant and gently pushes it aside. His index and middle finger rest in the shallow indentation. He feels the gentle throbbing of her veins and the vibration of her larynx as she moans softly.

"Gregory…," she whispers.

Behind them, an overly emotional visitor screams with joy at the sight of her boyfriend. Olivia whips around as the sound knifes through the relative quiet.

Gregory's fingers fall away from her throat and he folds his hands in front of him. _Now or never_, he thinks as Olivia turns back around to him. He leans forward as far as his feet restraints will allow and captures Olivia's mouth with his.

He hears Olivia gasp in surprise but after a moment, she rises and meets him. The kiss, that was once solely his a moment ago, becomes _theirs_.

Olivia braces her hands on Gregory's shoulders and invites him deeper.

His hands wrap around her neck and he pulls her closer to him. With delicate probing, he explores her warm and inviting mouth. Slowly and carefully, familiar feasting grounds are rediscovered.

She allows her fingers to trail up his neck and tease the soft lobe of his ear before her arms wrap around his neck. And after several moments, Olivia pulls back and gasps for air.

"I'm sorry," he whispers breathlessly.

Olivia waves him off and lowers her head into her hands. Her shoulders heave and shake as she struggles to get her breathing under control again.

_Why do I do this to her?_, he wonders. _Put her through this torture twice a month and never being able to satisfy her the way she needs…Why do I do this to her?_ He sighs before following suit and lowering his head to his hands. He doesn't look up as he hears her rise from the table or the soft click of her heeled sandals walking away.

Gregory jumps when a small hand touches his shoulder and she slides onto the bench next to him.

She gathers him into her arms. The soft touch of her fingers on his back burns through the coarse material of his prison uniform and to the core of his soul. She crosses her leg over his and intertwines her foot with his shackled ones.

He eases his hands up her back and allows his fingers to dance across the silky skin of her shoulders. He sighs softly as she lowers her head to his shoulder.

Olivia feels Gregory bend his head to hers and after a moment, she feels him nuzzle her ear and place a soft kiss on her temple.

Few words have been spoken in the time since the visit started. But sometimes, words aren't necessary.

Sometimes, just the very presence of a person or their gentle touch is enough. Words tarnish and fade away as their echo recedes in a person's ear. But a touch…

A touch can last a lifetime.


	3. Whatever We Were To Each Other, That We ...

**_NOTE: The title of this part is an excerpt from Henry Scott Holland's "Death Is Nothing At All"; full text appears at the end of the chapter and is used here strictly for non-profit entertainment purposes._**  
(See first part for disclaimer, notes, spoilers, etc.)

Pt 3: "Whatever We Were To Each Other, That We Are Still"

"How are the children?" he asks softly as he runs his hand through her hair.

"Sean is fine," Olivia assures him. "He's going to school part-time. Still undecided, but he's getting excellent marks in his general education courses."

"What are some majors he's considering?"

"Linguistics and International Business are still in the running…I think he's leaning towards Political Science. But he insists that he's still testing the limits of his interest in those subjects."

Gregory nods. "That's good. Make sure he takes his time and chooses a subject that he is really interested in. There's nothing worse than being stuck with a job you can't stand." He pauses for a moment. "Caitlin?"

Olivia sighs and closes her eyes. "She doesn't call me." She lifts her head from Gregory's shoulder and looks at him with sad eyes. "She calls Sean every few weeks though. He says she sounds fine. Happier, was how he described her."

"Is she still in Buenos Aires?"

"Yes," Olivia replies. "Still studying Art History too."

"Has she said anything to Sean about when she'll be coming home?"

Olivia bites her lips and shakes her head. "I don't think she will be," she says softly. "At least not while Cole is in Sunset Beach…or Trey and I for that matter. It's-, it's too painful for her."

Gregory squeezes Olivia's hand. "Give her time, Liv," he says with a reassuring smile. "I guess you were right about first love burning itself out."

She looks at him, confusion etched across her face until she recalls the forgotten conversation.

June, 1997

"It's her first love. Cole is her first love. I mean," I asked with a sigh as I looked into Gregory's eyes, "don't you remember your first love?"

With a tinge of bashfulness, Gregory glanced down briefly before admitting, "Yes, I do."

"Oh, darling," I said softly as I reached out and caressed him. "Well, for us women, first love is fast and furious and eventually it just burns itself out."

"I should have listened to you," Gregory concludes and Olivia is pulled back to the present.

She smiles sadly. "No. Time didn't burn Cait and Cole…Trey and I did." Her eyes glisten with unshed emotion and she looks off to the side. "My son and I are the reason she divorced Cole and left."

Deciding a change of topic is in order, Gregory asks with a small smile, "And how is Trey?"

Olivia's broad smile erases any trace of the sadness that plagued her a moment ago. "He's wonderful. Sean took him out on the boat a few days ago. He was very impressed with it." She laughs softly. "He's so small that he's impressed with anything bigger than him," she explains. "He was also impressed that it was named after me."

"_Amo Olivia Aeternus_," Gregory says with a small smile. "_Olivia, My Eternal Love_." His face turns serious and he asks quietly, "What about you? Are you seeing anyone?"

Olivia's eyes soften as she leans in and puts her hand over Gregory's. She whispers a reply but Gregory struggles to hear her.

"What?"

She clears her throat and repeats in a slightly louder but shaky voice, "After you…Who?"

_I've never deserved her_, Gregory thinks to himself as he stares dumbly at her. _After all the abuse and pain we inflicted on each other, she still loves me. And I her._

"I can't ask you to wait for me, Liv," he states.

"You haven't asked me to."

"I pled out! I was sentenced to a minimum of fifteen years! The hell of my life in here is _nothing_ compared to the hell I imagine for you out there!"

Olivia frowns. "It isn't 'hell'," she insists. "I have Trey and Sean. I see Bette almost every day-"

"And at night?" Gregory interrupts. "Who do you have?" He watches as she lowers her eyes and he softens his tone when he asks again, "Who do you have?" He reaches out and tilts her chin up with his finger so that he can look into her eyes. "Olivia," he whispers as a tear escapes from the corner of her eye and rolls forlornly down her cheek, "don't do this to yourself. You deserve to finally be happy." He gently wipes the tear off her face and says in a hushed tone, "Perhaps it would be better if you stopped visiting." And as he says it, he feels his reason for living drain away.

Olivia's eyes widen and she violently shakes her head. "No-, no darling," she stammers. "Don't-…You can't-…" She tightens her grip on Gregory's hand. "Please…" She swallows past the emotion in her throat and sobs, "I can't stop." With a shaking hand, she brushes away more tears that spill from her eyes. "This is…"

Gregory captures her fidgeting hands and holds them still. "This is what?"

"This is the-, the only," she chokes out with a sob, "time…that I'm…whole." She pulls her hands back and clasps them to her chest. "It hurts when I'm apart-, apart from you." She presses her hands further into her chest for emphasis.

He sighs heavily and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. "It's hurting you more that you drag yourself up here twice a month." He moves his hand to stroke her cheek but stops short of letting himself actually touch her. "It'll be for the best thing for you in the long run."

She shakes her head. "No. Oh, Gregory…please," she pleads. "Don't-, don't do this." Her eyes continue to plead with him as the emotion overtakes her and she is no longer able to speak.

"If you come again," he promises, "I'll refuse your visit." Her startled gasp tugs at his heart and he suddenly finds it difficult to look at her tear filled eyes. "Get on with your life…Don't come back."

"I'll-, I'll come anyway," she chokes out tearfully.

Gregory shakes his head. "Liv," he sighs, "I lo-, love you enough…to let you go." He looks down as Olivia strokes his hand gently with her finger. With deep regret, he pulls away from her touch and cringes as she stifles another sob.

"I know what you're trying to do," Olivia says after several minutes when she regains her composure. Her voice is hoarse and her eyes are red-rimmed. She smoothes the silky fabric of her blouse and she looks back up at Gregory. "And it won't work." She sighs and glances around the enclosed visiting area. The number of visitors has dwindled down as the end of visitation hour neared. Fear gripped her heart as she realized she had only a few minutes to get through to Gregory. "I love you," she says simply.

He looks back up at Olivia. "Then you'll do what I ask? You'll stay away?"

"No."

Gregory tilts his head. "No?" he repeats with a hint of warning in his voice.

"Don't take that tone with me, Gregory. It doesn't scare me." She exhales deeply and fingers the heart shaped pendant around her neck. "I love you and I'm going to keep coming back _even_ if I have to stand outside your cell and watch you through the bars. And, if you refuse my visits, I swear to god Gregory…I will make your life a living hell when you are released!" she pauses to catch her breath.

With the force of a thunderbolt, Gregory is stunned into silence. He manages to nod slightly as he stares at Olivia, his admiration for her evident on his face. "I just want you to be happy," he whispers.

"Then don't fight me on these visits," she replies. "Would you be happy if I stopped coming?" His silence gives her the answer she seeks. "That's what I thought." As she leans in and kisses him gently on the mouth, a bell sounds overhead.

"Visiting hours are up!" one of the hulking guards barks.

With a small smile, Olivia trails her thumb gently across his lips and wipes her lipstick off him. After untangling her foot from Gregory's feet, she stands up and smoothes the wrinkles out of her white skirt before standing up. She watches intently as one of the guards unchains Gregory from the floor and stands him up before cuffing him again. She steps closer to him and places her hands gently on his chest. With ease, she presses her lips to his and sighs as he responds.

After several moments, the guard taps Gregory's cuffed hands. "Time's up," he says softly.

Olivia pulls away and leans her forehead against Gregory's. "I love you," she whispers.

"I love you too."

She leans back over the table and retrieves her purse. She touches his cheek for a fleeting moment before leaning back in to kiss him one last time. "I'll see you in two weeks."

Gregory watches as she turns around quickly and leaves the visitors bay, her purse tucked under her arm. Her skirt and hips swaying gently with each step. "If you don't mind," he says to the guard when he feels him start to pull him away, "I'd like to just wait until she's out of sight."

The guard checks the locks before nodding curtly. "Just a minute though." He watches the longing on Gregory's face as Olivia walks farther away from them. "Your wife?" he asks softly.

"Yes," Gregory says. "She's my wife."

* * *

_"Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner. All is well." _ **- Henry Scott Holland**


	4. The Haunting of Olivia

(See first part for disclaimer, notes, spoilers, etc.)

Pt 4: "The Haunting of Olivia"

The black Lincoln Towncar cruises up the pebbled driveway like a shark gliding through the ocean.

"Is there anything else you'll be needing tonight, Mrs. Richards?" Bryan asks as he turns the engine off.

Olivia shakes her head as she opens the car door. "No, thank you. Have a good night." As she gets out and closes the door behind her, she stares up at the illuminated house. Strategically placed spotlights accent the door and windows, but cast shadows over other parts of the façade. She turns around as she hears another car pull into the driveway. With fascination, she watches as a young Gregory leads a younger version of herself out of the vehicle.

He carefully removed the silk fabric tied around her eyes. He stood behind her and whispered in her ear, "Welcome home, Liv." He smiled as she gasped at the sight in front of her. "What do you think of it?"

She shrieked in delight as she turned around and threw her arms around Gregory. "Oh, I love it!" she said breathlessly before kissing him passionately. "And I love you," she managed to say in between placing kisses on his face.

As young Gregory and Olivia fade away into the darkness, Olivia recalls something Gregory said to her four years ago as she walks through the front door.

"You deserved the best. And, nothing made me happier or more excited than the prospect of giving 'the best' to you."

The house is quiet and several of Trey's toys are scattered on the floor in front of the glass patio doors and on the sofa.

She cringes as she watches Gregory turn away from her in disgust.

"Where are you going?" she had snapped. "Off to one of your cheap little girlfriends?" He turned around quickly and stared at her. "It's alright for you to have as many affairs you want," she continued as she walked over to him, "but god forbid I should even look at another man!"

"You did a lot more than look, my dear," he interrupts, the anger rising in his face and tone.

"What is it that bothers you most? The fact that he was your best friend? Or that we did it…right here in this house! On this sofa! On that rug! In YOUR bed!"

Gregory pulled her to him forcefully, his hands grabbing onto the lapel of her gray and black suit jacket. He glared at her menacingly as she smacked her hands on his chest in an attempt to free herself from his grasp. His hand snaked around the back of her neck and he yanked her forward, with her resisting him every step of the way. She cried in protest as he pressed his mouth to hers. After several moments of struggling, she pushed him away and glared at him while breathing heavily. And just as quickly as she had pulled away, she advanced on him, pushing off his jacket as her lips melted onto his for a second time. She moaned as she started to pull off his tie. He threw her down on the sofa, his suit jacket followed a second later. He crouched over her, yanking off his tie and ripping open his shirt. She licked her lips in anticipation.

"Oh god," she moaned as she unhooked his belt.

Olivia bites her lip as she steps out of her heeled sandals. With a final glance around the still living room, she walks down the hall and slowly pushes open the door to Gregory's office.

After a moment, he is there…Sitting behind the massive desk, hunched over stacks of paper work. A draft breezes through the doorway and causes Gregory to fade away again, just as he looks up from his work and smiles at her.

Olivia stares into the dark room for a moment before pulling the door shut. She grabs her purse from the living room before walking up the stairs.

"Olivia!" he had bellowed up the stairs. "How the hell did this mutt get in here in the first place?"

She flinches on the stairs. Her name continues to echo around her, bouncing off the walls and assaulting her with its force. She turns around slowly and sees Gregory standing at the foot of the stairs, sneezing and coughing into a handkerchief. She shivers when he disappears and she continues walking up the stairs.

As she reaches the second floor, she hears Trey giggling and the low drone of the TV. She follows the giggling down the hallway until she comes to Trey's playroom. She stands in the doorway of what used to be Caitlin's room and smiles at what she finds. Sean and Trey are lying on the floor in front of the TV, watching cartoons. Trey is cuddled up against Sean and he's chewing on the ear of his stuffed dog in between giggles.

"Trey, get that out of your mouth," Olivia scolds.

Trey scrambles up from the floor and runs over to Olivia, throwing his arms around her. "You're home!" he shouts. "Look Mommy…Sean and me had pizza for dinner and I got to pay the delivery man!"

Olivia feigns shock. "You did? Oh Sean, are you sure that Trey was ready for this responsibility?"

Sean looks up from his spot on the floor. "He's a tough little guy…and a _huge_ tipper. I gave him a fifty dollar bill and he forgot to wait for the change."

"The delivery man was happy I let him keep all the money," Trey insists. "Besides, I got the pizza, didn't I?"

"You most certainly did," Olivia says as she sits down on the rocking chair and pulls Trey into her lap. "How many slices of pizza did you eat?"

"Five," Trey answers as he holds up four fingers.

Sean chuckles and urges Trey's pinky finger up. "Try again, little man."

Trey frowns. "I don't like math," he mutters.

Olivia smiles as she glances down at the small silver and diamond watch on her wrist. "Bedtime soon."

Trey groans. "But Mommy, Sean and me were watching cartoons and we were gonna have a campout in here tonight!"

Sean clears his throat. "Sorry, Mom. I should've cleared it with you first…" He stands up and stretches. "We can always do it another night Trey."

"No, no," she says as she stands up too. "You boys have a good time. I'm going to be going to bed shortly." She ignores Sean's questioning eyes as she bends down to kiss Trey. "Good night baby."

"Mommy!" he whines. "I'm not a baby. I'm a _big boy_!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry…Good night big boy."

"Much better," he notes as he kisses Olivia. "Night Mommy."

"Not too late," she whispers to Sean as she kisses his cheek. Trey's giggling resumes as she leaves the playroom.

Olivia halts when she reaches her bedroom door, her hand resting lightly on the brass doorknob. She turns her head slightly at the sound of something thumping against the wall and soft laughter.

Gregory had pressed her against the wall, pulling open her blouse as she assaulted him with her lips. Her blouse fell open, revealing the telltale bump of pregnancy. His hands moved down her body and caressed her swollen stomach.

"You're so beautiful when you're pregnant," he mumbled as he sucked on her neck.

She squealed as his tongue ran lazily across her throat. "Gregory, not here…We'll wake Caity."

Olivia pushes open the door and leans heavily against the sturdy wood after slamming it shut. She struggles to catch her breath as her eyes move over the bedroom.

One of the windows is open and a strong breeze howls through. It seems to carry with it the soft wail of her name.

Oliviiiiiiiiiia…

She crosses to the window, slamming it down and the smack reverberates through the haunted room. She tosses her purse onto the lounge and walks into the adjoining bathroom to prepare for bed. She slides out of her clothes and steps into the warm embrace of the shower.

Gregory lugged her heavy body into the bathroom and dropped her unceremoniously on the floor of the shower. He glared down at her as he flipped the lever and let loose the icy blast.

Olivia cried out pitifully as the ice water painfully slammed into her body.

"Were you and Del having an affair?"

"Turn it…off!"

"Answer me!" He crouched down to her level and shook her violently, ignoring the icy stream that pelted his back. "I saw you with him, Olivia! Last night! Were you and he having an affair or are you in the habit of kissing a dead man's cold lips and TELLING HIM HOW MUCH YOU LOVE HIM?"

She jerked away from him and snapped angrily, "Why would YOU even care? YOU haven't touched me in YEARS! NO ONE'S lips are colder than YOURS!" She sobbed and turned away from him as Caitlin stormed into the bathroom.

After toweling herself dry, Olivia steps into an old pair of Gregory's silk pajama's and tightens the drawstring around her slender waist as she walks back into the bedroom. As she begins removing the throw pillows from the bed and piling them on the lounge, there is a knock at the door.

"Come in."

Sean peers around the door as Olivia pulls down the duvet. "I just wanted to make sure you were ok."

Olivia nods as she sets her pillows up against the ornately carved wooden headboard. "I'm fine." She looks up and smiles reassuringly at Sean.

"How's Dad?" he asks softly.

"He's fine as well." She pauses for a moment. "You could go visit him and see for yourself."

"Mom-," Sean warns.

"It's just a suggestion, darling. _Just_ a suggestion."

Sean shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. "One that you've been making quite a bit lately."

Olivia turns away as she goes back into the bathroom. She picks up her paddle brush and runs it through her hair.

"I'm just…not ready to see him yet," Sean calls out from the bedroom.

She comes to the doorway of the bathroom, still brushing her hair. "It's been four years…How much more time do you need?"

Sean frowns as he bites back a snarky retort. He takes a steadying breath and says softly, "I guess I just don't have your never-ending ability to forgive him for everything."

Olivia stares at him in silence for a moment before leaving the doorway. "Don't let your brother stay up too late."

"Mom, I didn't mean-"

"And make sure he brushes his teeth before he falls asleep."

"Mom-"

"_Good night_, Sean."

He knows better than to push his mother. "Night," he says softly. He leaves the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him.

Olivia comes out of the bathroom when she hears the door close.

"Olivia-"

"Believe me. Believe me, Gregory. I just want you." She raised her hand to his cheek. "I've only ever wanted you. I'm so sorry." He reached up and caught her hand as she let it fall from his cheek. "I was wrong. I never realized how much…I hurt you. Please, forgive me."

And as if it was the simplest phrase in the world, he said, "I do."

She pulls back the sheet and climbs into the bed. She touches the base of the small lamp on the nightstand and the room is instantly shrouded in darkness. She hears the low rumble of thunder in the distance and says a silent prayer that Trey will sleep through the night. As she sinks down under the covers, another memory whispers to her from the dark.

"I have a wonderful idea," he offered. "Why don't we just satisfy each other from now on?" He stared at her intently as she reached out and fingered his chest before drifting her touch to his arm.

"That sounds like a good idea to me," she said throatily as she sat up. "Why don't we start now?"

"Oh my goodness," he mumbled as she kissed his lips and giggled. "I thought we already did."

"Oh that just shows what you know," she chided playfully as she climbed on top of him.

Olivia rolls over onto her side and hugs what would be Gregory's pillow to her body.

"You know darling," she said softly as she ran her fingers through his hair, "I still find you so exciting."

"Mmm hmmm," he grunted sleepily as she kissed his ear and nuzzled against him from behind.

"Mmm, I love you," she said with a smile. He chuckled softly as she lifted her head up. "I've always loved just you," she whispers into his hair.

She sighs and squeezes the soft pillow tighter as a hot tear escapes from the corner of her eye.

"And at night?" Gregory had interrupted. "Who do you have?"

"You," she whispers to the empty side of the bed. "I have _you_, darling."


	5. Purgatory

(See first part for disclaimer, notes, spoilers, etc.)

Pt 5: "Purgatory"

August 24, 2008

Opal Hayman gently places a yellow legal pad and pen on the conference table in front of the four empty chairs. She then sits an empty water glass on top of each pad. With a quick glance at the table, she moves around the front and places four additional glasses on a smaller table located directly in front of the conference table, but slightly to the right of the center. She then walks over to the podium next to the table and ensures that it stands straight without wobbling.

She has privately dubbed this small hearing room "Purgatory on Earth." In the thirty years that she has worked for the warden of the state's federal penitentiary, she has seen many prisoners come through the heavy doors. The prisoners are different and their crimes are different, but the expression on their faces is the same…one of hope. Hope that the parole board will agree that they have paid their dues and are fit to be reintegrated into society.

Opal glances down at the schedule of hearings for today. Four in total and the first one scheduled to start in just under fifteen minutes. She runs her finger across the sheet of paper to the prisoner's name:

_Gregory Richards, 598GR-704-1_.

The side door opens and the four members of the parole board file in.

"Good morning," she says.

They murmur quiet responses as they take their seats at the conference table. Ignoring their hushed discussion, Opal carries over the stack of prisoner files and puts them on the end of the table before returning to her small desk in the corner. She double-checks the audio system that will be taping the hearing. She looks up as the side door opens again and the first prisoner is led in.

Like all of the other prisoners, he wears the regulation prison uniform. His feet are shackled together and his wrists are bound behind his back. The bailiff takes the prisoner from the two guards and shows him the way to the smaller table in front of the board.

_There is something different about this one_, Opal observes as the prisoner's cuffs are removed and he sits down in the chair. _He looks like the other prisoners…but there's something different_. She watches Gregory Richards out of the corner of her eye. He sits ramrod straight in his chair, with his hands folded neatly one on top of the other. _It's the way he carries himself_, she decides. _He has presence_.

The heavy door swings open and three people, a man and two women, walk through swiftly. _Defense team_, Opal wagers. Her suspicion is confirmed as they stride over to the table where Gregory waits, briefcases in hand. A woman with curly red-gold hair drops a large portfolio of files onto the table with a soft _thwack_. A tall, distinguished looking gentleman with silver hair leans down to Gregory and whispers something in his ear. The last lawyer sits next Gregory and leafs through a stack of papers she removed from her briefcase.

The next few minutes pass in silence and Opal sits down at her desk. She watches discreetly as the lawyers lay out stacks of papers across the table. Gregory sits in silence, reviewing one of the documents.

The chair of the parole board looks up and announces, "Ten minutes until we'll call the hearing to order. Is that alright with you, Mr. Michaelson?"

"That'll be fine," he responds as he glances up at the conference table. "Thank you." He nods at the board before resuming a hushed conversation with his co-counsels.

_Ten minutes_, Opal thinks, _until the start of Gregory Richards' judgment day_. She looks at his face, expecting to see the hope that she has become so accustomed to seeing. Instead, she finds a face of stone.

Unreadable.

* * *

Olivia sits in the back of the Lincoln Towncar and with a shaking hand, she fingers the hem of her black sleeveless dress. She closes her eyes behind her sunglasses and leans back against the headrest. _Breathe_, she urges herself with a shuddering sigh. _Breathe_.

"You alright?"

She nods and reaches out, feeling across the seat until she finds and latches onto Sean's hand. "Yes. Just nervous."

Sean squeezes his mother's hand reassuringly. "Everything will be fine." He frowns as her hand continues to spasm nervously within his own.

"I just have such a bad feeling," Olivia says softly, "that something will go wrong." She extracts her hand from Sean's grasp and massages her temples. "It's everywhere." She exhales deeply as she opens her eyes.

"What is?"

"This…heavy feeling. This dead weight that's been in the pit of my stomach and sitting on my chest all week." She removes her sunglasses and turns her head to look at Sean. "I barely slept at all last night."

"Breathe, Mom," he orders, noticing the smudge of sleeplessness under her eyes. "In and out."

Olivia laughs softly. "I was just telling myself that." Her laughter fades away as Bryan turns the car into the parking lot of the federal penitentiary. She looks Sean in the eye and takes his hand. "In case I forget to tell you later…No matter how this hearing ends, thank you for coming with me." She leans in and kisses his cheek as Bryan stops the car. "Thank you, Sean." She puts on her sunglasses and turns away as Bryan opens the car door and extends his hand in to her.

"You're welcome," he replies quietly as Olivia takes Bryan's hand and gets out of the car. Sean slides across the seat and gets out as Bryan helps Olivia into her black blazer.

As they walk up to the gate, Sean slides his hand into Olivia's and squeezes it. "Just remember to breathe," he whispers.

"I'll try," she whispers back as she returns his squeeze.

* * *

"Well," the chairwoman of the parole board begins, "if we can call the hearing to order." She looks over and nods at Opal, who switches on the audio taping system. "The purpose of this hearing is to determine if Gregory Richards, Prisoner 598GR-704-1, is eligible for parole and reintegration into society. It shall be noted that this is the first such hearing for the said prisoner. The board members and I have already reviewed the preliminary reports found in the prisoner's file. Mr. Michaelson, if you'd like to begin?"

"Yes, Madam Chairwoman," he says as he stands and buttons his suit coat shut. "Thank you." He pauses for a moment, as he looks each one of the board members in the eye. "My client, Gregory Richards, pled guilty to Murder in the Second Degree on July 24, 2000. He _pled_ guilty. A jury of his peers did not find him guilty. He freely admitted to firing the weapon that caused the death of Francesca Vargas." Michaelson walks around the table and stands in front of it, gesturing at Gregory. "All of us here know Gregory Richards. For many years, he was a distinguished trial lawyer and former co-president of the _California Trial Lawyers Association_. Under his leadership, he led _The Liberty Corporation _to financial success and fostered a successful relationship between the company and its community. Additionally, he was revered as a generous philanthropist and patron to several southern California charities." He walks back around the table. "And he killed a woman," he states as he stands behind Gregory's chair. "He killed a woman that had _stalked_ his family for months leading up to her death. _Threatened_ their safety and attempted to _extort_ hundreds of thousands of dollars from him." He turns around and glances at the empty visitor's gallery. "A woman who has _no_ next of kin here today to appeal on her behalf," Michaelson says strongly as he turns back to the parole board. "A woman who had no friends or family. A woman who did have _many_ enemies. A woman who was not well liked. A woman who was _so_ despised by the people she came in contact with that the investigating officers had over half a dozen suspects they considered _before_ my client."

"Excuse me," one of the junior officers of the board interrupts. "I would like the record to reflect that Mr. Michaelson is correct. As required by law, the parole board attempted to locate Ms. Vargas' next of kin, but to no avail. We additionally searched for anyone willing to appeal on behalf of the victim but could locate no one." The board member gestures for Michaelson to continue.

"Thank you." He glances down at his red headed co-counsel and nods. As she stands up, he says, "While there is no one willing to appeal for Ms. Vargas, there are individuals anxious to appeal on behalf of my client, Mr. Richards." Gregory's head snaps up as Michaelson continues, "Ms. O'Rourke, if you will…Madam Chairwoman, I'd like to request a short break so that my co-counsel may escort our witnesses in from the waiting room."

The chairwoman glances around at her three associates. "Two minutes," she concedes before she and the three other members exit the hearing room.

"What the hell are you doing?" Gregory hisses as Michaelson returns to his seat next to Gregory. "I specifically advised you that I did not want anyone to know about this hearing." _In case things did not go my way…Why share the disappointment?_

"And I took your request into account before I vetoed it. Gregory," he whispers loudly, "you have been given a _rare_ opportunity. So you killed a woman…No problem; we show how crazy the bitch was. But she's got no one! No one who gave a damn about her!" He lowers his whisper an octave. "But you do. You have people who care about you and-"

"You DIDN'T," Gregory growls. "You DIDN'T call Oliv-"

"-Olivia was more than willing to appeal on your behalf when I approached her with this. Who better to appeal for your parole than your _ex_-wife? The fact that you divorced her and she is still your strongest champion will speak _volumes_ to the parole board."

Gregory slams his fist down on the table, drawing the attention of Opal and the bailiff, who takes a warning step closer to the table. "I did not want to put her through this. Damnit!"

Michaelson sighs. "Gregory," he starts as the parole board returns to the hearing room, "if your parole is denied, you can chew me out afterwards. _But_, if the board grants our request, I promise not to say I told you so. Trust me."

The only reply he gets from Gregory is an angry snort.

"Mr. Michaelson, where are your witnesses?" the chairwoman asks as she takes her seat at the conference table. As he stands and opens his mouth, the heavy doors swing open and O'Rourke walks in behind Olivia and Sean.

Gregory stares in shock at his son. _My god_, he thinks as he watches Sean hands O'Rourke a sealed envelope before holding out a chair for his mother. _Of all the people, he's the last person I expected_. He catches Olivia's eye and smiles subtly at her. She returns a shaky smile and he is immediately concerned with her pale complexion. Even from a distance, he can see her hands trembling in her lap as she folds them together to keep them still.

"Members of the board, I would like to introduce Olivia and Sean Richards…my client's ex-wife and their son. Sean has prepared a written statement for you to consider. Mrs. Richards has requested to address you in person." Michaelson walks over to Olivia and holds out his hand to her. As he helps her up, he whispers in her ear, "You'll do fine."

Olivia drops her purse onto the chair she vacates. She takes a deep breath as she walks the few feet to the podium and holds onto it tightly. With a deep breath, she looks for a brief moment at each member of the parole board before speaking.

"When I met Gregory, he was a brilliant young man. He graduated at the top of his class in law school and was immediately appointed to a prestigious law firm," she says softly. She feels Gregory's eyes on her and she draws strength from it. She raises her voice a bit and says with a slight waver, "And we fell in love and married." She pauses and focuses her attention on the chairwoman of the parole board. "He worked hard so that we would have a good life. That was all he ever wanted to do, ta- take care of us," her voice falling again with her last statement. She grips the podium tighter and lowers her eyes. "And there were bad years when we forgot why we married each other in the first place." Her voice drops to a whisper as she says, "And I betrayed him in the worst possible way that a wife can betray her husband - I slept with another man. And not just _any_ man, but a man he _despised_ with every fiber of his being. Not only did I sleep with this man, but I bore _his_ child." Olivia chokes back a sob. "I let Gregory believe the child was _his_. I _allowed_ him to fall in love with the child, knowing there was a chance he wasn't the father." Olivia looks at Gregory with tear filled eyes. "I _let_ him fall in love with my son. And he did. He _loves_ my son. And it was because of that love that he shot Francesca Vargas." She turns back to face the parole board with angry eyes. "She threatened to take my son and leave the country with him. She was going to kidnap my baby. _Please_, don't forget that. Francesca Vargas was a _liar_, a _thief_, and a _con artist_. If Gregory hadn't stopped her, kidnapping would've been added to her resume." She reaches into the pocket of her blazer and removes a 5x7 photograph from her pocket. She holds the photo up so that the board can see it. "My son is ten years old now. He's happy and healthy. I shudder to think what the fate of my son would've been if..." She puts the photo back in her pocket after a moment. "Everything that Gregory has _ever_ done has been for the good of his family. The only things that he ever wanted to do were make us happy and keep us safe." She looks back over at Gregory. "He committed a terrible crime. He did the wrong thing but for the _right_ reason. He did it to save the life of my son." She struggles to breathe as Michaelson crosses to stand next to her.

The chairwoman clears her throat. "Mrs. Richards, the board and I thank you for appearing before us today. But, I think I speak for the rest of the board when I ask: don't you feel that your opinion is just a bit biased?"

Olivia looks over at Michaelson and he nods slightly, indicating that it is alright to answer. She takes a deep breath before responding, "A bit biased?" She waits until the chairwoman nods. "No. I don't think that I am a 'bit' biased…I think that, when it comes to Gregory, I am 'the most' biased person in the world."

"I'm sorry?" another member of the parole board asks.

"Out of anyone here, I've known Gregory the longest…I was married to him for over twenty years. I know everything there is to know about him." She glances quickly over at Gregory before turning her attention back to the board. "And it matters. It matters that my opinion is the most biased because, after everything that has happened between myself and Gregory, I can forgive him. I-," she falters, "I can still love him."

Michaelson puts his hand on Olivia's arm. "Thank you, Mrs. Richards." He looks up at the conference table. "Does anyone have anything else they'd like to ask Mrs. Richards?" He urges Olivia to turn around when there is no response.

Olivia returns to her seat and collapses into it with a heavy sigh. Sean reaches for her hand and smiles comfortingly. She looks over at Gregory and blushes at the proud smile he sends her way.

"Are there any other witnesses you wish to call Mr. Michaelson?" the chairwoman asks.

"No, Madam Chairwoman. Thank you."

"Well then, we will take a short recess while the board and I review everything we have heard today. Bailiff, return the prisoner to the holding cell."

Olivia stifles a gasp of pain after Sean tightens his grip on her. He watches, stunned into silence, as Gregory is led out of the hearing room in chains.

"I've never seen Dad like that before," Sean mumbles as images of his father flash through his memory. _Walking unobstructed through the house, yelling at him for selling his car and donating the money to charity, dancing with Olivia on the balcony, walking Caitlin down the aisle, screaming at Olivia in the living room as she downed expensive Russian vodka, pacing the courtroom as he defended Elaine Stevens_. Shaking himself free of his memories, he looks down and frowns at how clammy Olivia's hand is. "Mom, take off your blazer…You're sweating."

Olivia nods absently and shrugs out of her black blazer before folding it over her lap. "Sweetie, can you go to the vending machine and get me a bottle of water?"

Sean stands up and touches her shoulder before leaving the hearing room.

Michaelson saunters over and stands in front of Olivia's chair. "You did good."

"You think so?" she asks unsurely. "The parole board didn't look _too_ impressed."

"You did _good_," he insists. He sits down in the chair next to her. "You were right, by the way."

She rotates her body left to face him. "About what?"

"He's extremely angry that I told you about the hearing."

"Oh _that_," she says with a small smile as she crosses her legs in front of her. "I imagine he was. Did he say he wanted to spare me?" She pauses until Michaelson nods. "I told you so, didn't I? Sometimes, I honestly think that when he looks at me all he sees is a woman made of fragile china. He's so afraid I'll break into a million pieces."

Michaelson looks straight ahead as he says softly, "It's like you said before, he just wants to keep you safe." He grunts and stands up. "If you'll excuse me, I have a date with nicotine." He starts to walk away but doubles back. "And for the record, he has referred to you as the strongest person he knows."

Olivia looks down at her lap and smiles as Michaelson walks away.

* * *

Gregory paces back and forth anxiously in the holding cell. With each step, the 8x10 cell shrinks a bit more. He sighs and stops short in front of the archaic clock that hangs on the wall.

_Almost an hour_, he thinks as he steals a glance at it. _Damnit_. He continues to pace as his mind furiously reviews the parole hearing. _Michaelson certainly earned his paycheck today_. He stops short for a second time in less than a minute. _Olivia and Sean_. He sinks down onto the cot in the corner of the cell. _Two of the people I've hurt most in this world and here they are…Asking the parole board that I be set free_.

He leans back against the bars and closes his eyes. _I can still love him, she had said_.

"Richards," the guard says gruffly as unlocks the cell. "They're back."

Gregory opens his eyes slowly. "Well then…Ready when you are."

* * *

Opal nervously shuffles the stack of papers across her small desk in the corner of the hearing room. The level of tension skyrocketed in the room when the bailiff led the prisoner back in. She sneaks a glance at his ex-wife and son. The son is staring down at the ground. The ex-wife holds his hand but her gaze is locked on the prisoner. Opal shifts slightly in her seat and directs her attention to the prisoner. He stares at his ex-wife, a small smile completing the tender expression about his face.

The side door opens and the parole board returns to the hearing room. Opal scans their faces for anything that gives away their decision, but without success. As she flips on the audio recording system, she steals one last glance at the prisoner's ex-wife. She is sitting up anxiously in her chair and the little color she has in her face drains away.

"I apologize for the delay," the chairwoman announces as she puts on a small pair of reading glasses and reviews the open file in front of her. "We had much information to review and consider." She looks up at Gregory briefly before returning her gaze to the file. "Mr. Richards, the murder of anyone, regardless of what sort of person they were in life, is not to be excused or taken lightly."

Olivia sucks in her breath and bites down hard on her bottom lip, drawing blood.

"Of your own volition, you pled guilty to Murder in the Second Degree. To date, you have served more than half of your fifteen-year term. In these eight years, your prison record has been impressive, with no instances of disorderly conduct." She removes her glasses as she looks up. "It is commendable that you adjusted so well and without incident to prison life…considering the luxurious lifestyle you left behind."

"On behalf of Mr. Richards, I thank you," Michaelson advises after several moments and no response from Gregory.

"The crime of Murder in the Second Degree," the chairwoman continues, "is a serious offense. A life was taken and we cannot ignore that. The purpose of a parole hearing, in addition to determining if the prisoner is fit to be reintegrated into society, is for the victim's voice to be remembered. I speak for the entire board when I say that this is the first hearing in recent history where the amount of people supporting the prisoner has outnumbered those representing the victim." Adopting a softer tone, she says, "We were very moved by the appeal of the prisoner's ex-wife and son. Again, thank you for taking the time to appear before us today." She nods at Olivia and Sean before putting her reading glasses back on. "Taking all of this into consideration, as well as the nature of the crime, we have determined that Gregory Richards, Prisoner 598GR-704-1, has served his time. We feel that he no longer poses a threat to others and that he can be reintegrated successfully into society."

The shallow breath catches in Olivia's throat. Rasping for oxygen, she struggles to focus on the words of the chairwoman. She pulls away from Sean's grasp, allowing her hand to flutter up to her throat and flinches at how icy her touch is.

"Excepting any further delays, the prisoner is to be released on the first of September, 2008." The chairwoman removes her glasses and looks back up at the prisoner. "You are a free man again, Mr. Richards. You have been given a second chance at life. Please, use it wisely."

Gregory nods and responds quietly, "Thank you." He turns around to Olivia and Sean. Sean is leaning over Olivia, holding the bottle of water to her and urging her to sip it. He sees her shoulders shaking and she hangs her head down, her long hair obstructing his view of her face.

Michaelson follows Gregory's line of vision and notes the concern on his face. Turning back to the parole board, he asks, "Madam Chairwoman, under the circumstances…." He gestures to Olivia and Sean. "Would you permit Mr. Richards to have physical contact with his family?"

The chairwoman looks over the top of her glasses. "Alright," she says with a small nod to the bailiff.

The bailiff unlocks the foot chain and Gregory walks slowly across the room to Olivia and Sean. As he gets closer to them, he hears Olivia whispering erratically, "Are you sure? This isn't some cruel joke? Sean, please tell me! They ARE releasing your father, aren't they? They can't take it back, can they?"

He crouches down in front of Olivia, the air crackling with energy as he places his hands on her knees. Her entire body jerks and she snaps her head up. Her face is regaining its color at an alarming speed and Gregory fears she is going to pass out as her body runs through the gamut of emotions.

"Breathe, sweetheart. Please, breathe." He reaches out and takes the bottle of water from Sean, mouthing 'thank you' as he does. He holds the cool bottle to her cheek, his fingers brushing her skin as he does.

"Did she-, did they really-…" she struggles to ask.

"Yes." Gregory moves his hands up and lays them flat on the tops of her thighs. "They did." He lowers the bottle to the ground. He captures her face in his hands, pulling her down to him as he places a gentle kiss on her lips.

The impact of the board's decision finally slams into Olivia as she feels Gregory's lips on hers. She sobs aloud and throws her arms around him. "Oh god," she whispers. "Finally…"

Gregory stands up, taking her with him and pulling her body close to his. His hands snake around her back and he feels her shudder as she pushes herself further into his embrace. As a tear escapes from his eye, he buries his face in her hair and inhales the heavenly aroma of Olivia's shampoo. _Almond blossoms and vanilla…The scents of my dreams_.

"Seven days," he whispers in her ear. "Seven days."


	6. Do Your Time, I Think I'm Home For Good

**_NOTE: This chapter is RATED ADULT for sexual content. In addition, the title of this chapter was inspired by the song, "Everything You've Done Wrong" (performed and composed by Sloan) and can be found on the soundtrack to the movie, "The Virgin Suicides"; lyric used here strictly for non-profit entertainment purposes._**  
(See first part for disclaimer, notes, spoilers, etc.)

Part 6: "Do Your Time, I Think I'm Home For Good"

_September 1, 2008 at 2:15 a.m._

Olivia wanders through the living room, her fingers drifting across the top of the sofa as she walks past it. She sits down on the sofa and looks around the room anxiously before jumping back up.

O'Rourke folds her cell phone shut and looks up at Olivia. "Mrs. Richards? That was Michaelson. He said that they are less than five minutes away."

She sighs and closes her eyes. "Thank you," she whispers as she opens her eyes a moment later. "Whose idea was it again that Gregory be released at midnight?"

"His," O'Rourke notes as she stifles a yawn.

Olivia smiles as she takes a sip out of her coffee mug. "He probably didn't want to stay in prison a minute longer than necessary."

O'Rourke tucks her small cell phone into the pocket of her jeans and stands up. "I think he just wanted to hurry home…to _you_." She swings her large bag up onto her shoulder and walks over to Olivia. "I'm going to wait outside for Michaelson."

"Are you sure?" Olivia asks as she sets her mug on the center table. O'Rourke nods and Olivia walks over to the young lawyer. "Thank you," she whispers as she hugs her, "for everything that you've done for Gregory. I will _never_ forget it. If there is ever anything-"

The defense lawyer pulls back and pushes a curl out of her face. "Just be happy." She squeezes Olivia's arm gently. "You both deserve it." She smiles once more at Olivia before turning and leaving the house.

Olivia sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. Her eyes roam around the living room and linger on the front door for a moment. She anxiously drums her fingers on the top of her arms. She moves her hand and covers her heart. It pounds furiously and she takes a deep breath to steady her frazzled nerves. She walks over to the patio door and opens it, allowing the strong ocean breeze in. The breeze stirs her hair, causing it to swirl out around her head. She closes her eyes and leans against the doorjamb. So intent is she on getting her heart to calm down, she doesn't hear the front door open…

* * *

The Towncar grinds to a stop in front of One Ocean Avenue. Before Bryan can free himself from the front seat and come around to the backseat, Gregory swings the door open and steps out. 

He looks up at the large house and smiles. In addition to the façade spotlights, every window is illuminated from within, welcoming him home. _Home_, he thinks as a hand clamps down on his shoulder.

"Well, Gregory…" Michaelson trails off as O'Rourke comes to stand behind him. "I'll call you tomorrow and we'll make arrangements for you to meet with the parole officer." He wraps his arm around her waist and extends the other to Gregory. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Gregory shakes his hand firmly and looks over at O'Rourke. "Is she-"

"Waiting inside for you," O'Rourke finishes. "And anxiously pacing the length of the living room."

"Thank you," he whispers before turning away and striding up the driveway to the front door. As he walks closer to the gateway to his future, his heart starts to pound faster and he feels his mouth go dry. He puts his hand on the door handle and turns it.

Pushing the heavy door open, he immediately sees her standing still by the patio door. A breeze causes her hair to dance on the air. She's leaning against the door, her back to the front door and she doesn't turn around.

He closes the door softly and leans against it. His breath becomes shallow as he watches her. It finally catches in his throat when she turns her head and locks her eyes with his.

She pushes away from the patio door and turns around fully. Her face is soft and her eyes sparkle as bright as the smile that lights up her face. The mauve button-down sweater she's wearing adds color to her complexion and makes her look so alive. _So_ vibrant. _So_ much better than any dream he has had about this moment during the years he was incarcerated. _So_ here, right in front of him.

Gregory smiles as Olivia walks over to him. Her gray pants drag across the floor and he notices that she is barefoot, allowing him to see that her toenails are daintily painted with a French pedicure.

"How was the drive?" she asks softly, as if Gregory was returning from a weekend business trip and not an eight year, all expense paid vacation in a federal prison. "Was there much traffic?"

"Not at this time of night," he responds, following her lead. He moves away from the door and meets her by the base of the stairs. He tentatively reaches out and touches her cheek, noting her small gasp. "I'm glad to be home."

"Home is glad you're back," she whispers breathily as she steps into his touch.

Gregory trails his hand down her neck and over her right breast before allowing it to rest on her hip. His other arm wraps around her back and he draws her even closer. He feels her chest shudder as her breath comes out in rasps. He bends in and places a soft kiss on her lips, sighing internally at their sweet taste.

Olivia feels his lips on hers and she returns the kiss hungrily, advancing on him and pushing him up against the wall. He pushes away from the wall and flips around, putting Olivia flush against the wall. He continues to attack her lips again and again with his kisses as he continues to tell himself, _She's real…She's here_.

His anxious hands pull her sweater open, the small buttons popping off and scattering across the stone floor. His hands roam across her bare stomach for a moment before trailing up to her chest. She moans as he cups her breasts and her head falls forward. With trembling fingers, she tugs his shirt out from his pants and urges it up. He allows his hands to fall away from her breasts and she pulls the shirt off him before pressing back against her.

Her kiss is harder as she feels his coarse chest rubbing against hers. She stifles a gasp as he pulls her away from the wall and pushes her into the stairwell. Olivia reaches down and begins to loosen his belt before they stumble and collapse on the stairs.

He looks down at her, his body responding to her heavy breathing and flushed complexion. He struggles to yank the side zipper on her pants down when she moans, "No."

"What?" he asks distractedly as the zipper finally opens, allowing him to start pulling off her pants.

"Not…he-, here," she breathes as she pulls his face down to hers. She whispers in his ear, "It can't be here." She tilts her head back, towards the second floor. She rolls out from under him and crawls up the remaining stairs.

He sighs before following her up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He follows her to the doorway of the bedroom and allows her to pull him in the room. Their arms go around each other as their mouths continue to be drawn together. He kicks off his shoes and steps out of his pants, leaving them on the floor with Olivia's discarded pair.

Pushing her onto the bed, he covers her body with his. He looks down at her again and knows that she is ready when her legs wrap around him. They both are. They've waited too long and have wanted it for even longer.

He thrusts into her and freezes when she sobs. "What's wrong?" he asks in a panic.

She tightens her legs and pulls him closer. "N-, Nothing…" she trails off. He bends down and kisses the trail of tears off her face. "It's just…"

"I know," he whispers. Without removing his eyes from her, he continues to move against her. She rises and meets him, pulling his face down and claiming the lips that she desperately seeks. He pulls back from her kiss and whispers in her ear, "I love you."

Olivia holds back a sob as she manages to say, "I love you too," before she is caught up in the passion…

…Several hours later, as the first rays of faint sunlight fill the room, Olivia throws her head back and rocks to a stop as Gregory's hands fall away from her hips. Breathing heavily, she slides off Gregory and lies next to him, her heading resting on his shoulder. Her hair hangs heavily and is plastered to her back and neck with sweat.

He wraps his arms around her and takes a deep breath before asking with exhaustion clinging to his voice, "Why…was it _so_ important that we make it…to the bed?"

"Because," she whispers sleepily, "I've been alone in it for _too_ long." She reaches down and pulls the silk sheet over them. "We've both…been alone." Gregory squeezes her tighter to his body as she continues, "It won't…be cold anymore." After a few moments, her breathing becomes steady and deep.

Gregory rubs her foot gently with his and allows his heavy eyes to close. "How long," he mumbles as his mind grows dark with sleep, "have you been here with only ghosts for company?…Not _anymore_, Liv. They're gone."

* * *

The distant sound of waves crashing on the beach pulls Gregory out of a sound sleep. He opens his eyes slowly and stares up at the vaulted ceiling of the bedroom. He closes his eyes again as he basks in the silence of the late morning. Pure silence was something he had missed in prison. Someone, somewhere was always making noise. 

He kicks his leg out from under champagne colored silk sheet and exhales deeply. As he does, he feels a heavy pressure on his chest. When he opens his eyes and looks down, he sees Olivia's head resting on his chest, her hair fanning out across it. He reaches down and lightly runs his fingers through her thick hair. He rubs a lock between his thumb and forefinger before bringing it to his nose and inhales the familiar smell of her shampoo. He untangles his hand from her hair and drapes his arm across her shoulder.

He closes his eyes again and urges his still tight muscles to relax as he strokes Olivia's shoulder with his thumb. His body is still in prison mode….Tense and distant from his surroundings. _Not anymore though_, he reminds himself. _And never again_.

From downstairs, Gregory hears the distant clang of pots and after a few moments, the steady aroma of coffee reaches his nostrils. His stomach grumbles softly and he realizes the last meal he ate was back at the prison last night. He frowns as he recalls the unfortunate mass of color on his plate that they called food. He sits up slowly and slides out of the bed, substituting a pillow for his chest so that Olivia isn't disturbed.

Gregory walks across the bedroom to the walk-in closet, hoping Olivia left something for him to wear until he had the chance to contact a tailor. He blinks in surprise after he opens the door and finds the wardrobe fully stocked. His eyes move over the rows of new suits, stacks of dress and casual shirts, other necessities, and even a few pairs of blue jeans. He looks back at the bed and smiles at Olivia's sleeping form. "You trying to tell me something with the jeans?" he asks softly.

Pushing the suits aside, he smirks triumphantly as he finds several robes. He shrugs into one and steps into the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him.

Olivia stirs as the shower comes alive. She smiles involuntarily before closing her eyes again. _He's home_, is the last thought that rolls through her consciousness before succumbing to sleep again.

* * *

Gregory steps off the last stair and smoothes the collar on the navy blue polo shirt. The smells wafting out from the kitchen taunt and beckon him. He walks through the dining room and stands in the doorway of the kitchen. 

The sunlight beams in through the patio doors and from three skylights in the ceiling. _You redecorated, Liv_, he notes. Gone is the once cool kitchen of stone and marble and in its place is an inviting kitchen with warm wooden counters and cupboards and a vase of gladioli on the center of the table.

He clears his throat as Rose turns away from the stove. "Hello Rose."

She jumps and the spatula she was using to flip the pancakes clatters to the floor. "Oh, Mr. Richards!" she gushes. "Welcome home!" She surprises Gregory by throwing her arms around him and patting his back. "It's good to have you back." She pulls away and immediately pours the steaming coffee into a mug before passing it to him. "Still black?"

"Yes, thank you" he says with a small laugh. "Oh, Rose…You'll have no idea how long I've dreamed of your cooking. You should have seen the slop they forced us to eat."

"I can imagine," Rose says with a grimace as she bends down and retrieves the lost spatula. She removes a clean one from the drawer and turns back to the stove, scooping the pancakes onto a warm plate. "To make up for it, Mrs. Richards asked me to pick up everything I would need for your favorite meals. 'Anything he could possibly want,' she said." She sets the platter of pancakes on the table as she says, "I can make Belgian Waffles, Eggs Hollandaise, a Florentine Omelet…anything. French Toast?"

Gregory chuckles as he sips his coffee. "It all sounds wonderful. I'm tempted to have a little of everything…including those pancakes. May I?"

"Of course. If you excuse me, I'm going to get Trey from his room and he'll be down to join you."

"Trey is…_here_?"

Rose nods. "Mrs. Deschanel dropped him off thirty minutes ago."

He stares at her dumbly until he realizes whom she is referring. "You mean Bette?"

"Yes," she replies over her shoulder as she walks up the back stairs.

_Trey…_, he thinks. He picks up his mug and turns to stare out the patio door. He swallows a large gulp of coffee before putting it down on the table. He sighs nervously and puts his hands in his pocket as he rocks back on the heels of his feet.

From upstairs, he hears a _thud_ and the sound of feet running down the hallway. A moment later, the sound of feet thundering down the back staircase signals the impending arrival of Trey. A sudden silence hangs over the kitchen and Gregory finds himself unable to turn around.

"Hi," a small voice says shyly.

Gregory turns around slowly and finds himself face-to-face not with the toddler he remembered, but a ten-year-old boy wearing jeans, flip-flops, and yellow t-shirt. The boy that _should've_ been his. The boy he _wanted_ to be a father to. The boy he _loved_ as his own.

"You're Trey."

The young boy grins, showing off the dimples that painfully remind Gregory of his paternity. "How'd you know?"

Gregory takes a step closer and says quietly, "You look just like your mother." And he does….He has Olivia's expressive blue eyes that dance in amusement when he smiles and the dark blonde hair that she passed on to her children from her mother.

"Everyone tells me that," he sighs dramatically. "Aunt Bette says that the world couldn't handle another one of Mommy though." He glances at the plate of pancakes and then up at Gregory. "Want some pancakes?" he asks as he sits down at the table.

Gregory is silent, too stunned by the ease and familiarity of the conversation that Trey has engaged him in. He sits down in one of the chairs next to Trey and simply stares at him. He is chewing on his bottom lip, deep in concentration as he spreads warm butter across the pancakes and drizzles maple syrup on top. He cuts off a large piece and shoves it in his mouth, a small amount of syrup dribbling down his chin. The child sighs in mock frustration as he picks up his napkin and wipes the syrup away.

"Do you know who I am?" Gregory asks quietly while Trey continues to eat.

Trey swallows his mouthful of pancakes. "You're Caitlin and Sean's dad," he says matter-of-factly as he reaches for his glass. "And the man that Mommy loves."

The easy way Trey's last declaration rolls off his tongue sends Gregory reeling. "Did she tell you that?"

"Nope. Sean did." Trey swallows some of his chocolate milk and sets the glass down. "Mommy told me a few days ago that you were coming home to live with us. She asked me if that would be ok; I told her it was ok as long as _I_ didn't have to move out of my room." Gregory smiles in amusement as Trey continues, "Then Sean took me out on the boat. He said that you'd live in Mommy's room because she loves you." He takes another bite of his pancakes and asks thoughtfully while chewing, "Do you love her back?"

"I do…_very much_."

Trey grins playfully and from this vantage point, Gregory can see the space where a tooth recently fell out. "Mommy has been really happy all week," he remarks casually. "She had Rose hire lots of people to come and clean the _whole_ house so that 'everything will be perfect when Gregory comes home'," he says, imitating Olivia's breathy British accent and causing Gregory to laugh aloud. "_I_ had to clean _my_ room though," he complains as he stuffs a fork full of pancakes into his mouth. "Mommy says I lived with you before you went away, but I don't remember that."

Gregory nods slowly, confirming what Olivia told him, as he takes a sip of his coffee. "You did, but you were a baby at the time." He looks down at the steam snaking up from the mug and asks, "Did either your mother or Sean tell you where I've been all this time?"

Trey puts down his silverware and nods. "Mommy said that there was a bad lady who tried to steal me," he says softly with downcast eyes, "and that you stopped her. She said that you got into a fight with the lady and she died." He looks back up at Gregory and asks, "Was-, was it _scary_ being in jail?"

The concern and innocence emanating from Trey's eyes speak to Gregory in ways that nothing else has in the past few years. _Except during Olivia's visits when she looked at me with those same eyes_, he notes.

"No, it wasn't scary," he grants, "but it was lonely. I missed your mother, Caitlin, Sean, and you."

Trey pushes himself onto his knees and he leans across the table. "You missed _me_ too?" he asks, resting his chin in his hands.

Gregory folds his arms on the table and leans in close to Trey. "Very much," he whispers.

"I think Mommy missed you too," Trey whispers back.

The quiet, almost reverie-like moment is broken by the sound of a deafening roar and the squeal of brakes in the driveway.

"Who is that?" Gregory asks as Trey's face lights up. _Please, please….Don't let it be the jewel thief…Please…_

"The tank!"

"The _tank_?"

"Uh-huh. It's what we call Sean's car 'cause it's so big and loud and green," Trey explains. "I think it's a cool car but Mommy hates it and wants him to get rid of it."

"But Sean loves his Hummer too much to get rid of it," Sean says as he walks into the kitchen. He takes off his sunglasses and places them on the counter with his keys. "Morning everyone. I just wanted to stop by before heading to work."

Gregory stands up and turns around, facing his son. "Sean…" He takes a few steps closer to Sean and can't believe how much older Sean has gotten in the eight years since he's seen him. _He looks so much like me it's eerie_, Gregory thinks. "Where is work?" he asks as he takes in Sean's casual sports jacket and black trousers.

"The radio station. Mom turned it over to me after I graduated college."

"Sometimes I get to go and watch the radio broadcast," Trey pipes up. He runs over to Sean and throws his arms around his waist. "Sean's the _best_ big brother."

"Yes, he is," Gregory agrees quietly as he meets Sean's eyes. _So much animosity and too many years of us not getting along because we couldn't see eye-to-eye_, he reflects with heavy regret. "I'm glad you're here Sean. Th-, Thank you for what you wrote to the parole board."

"You're welcome," he answers as watches Trey return to his chair and resume eating. "I meant what I wrote. Did they let you read it?"

"My lawyer showed me a copy." Gregory clasps Sean's shoulder. "Thank you, Son. Not just for the letter," he continues before Sean can interrupt, "but for all the support you've given your mother. Delaying college so that you could stay here and help with Trey…You didn't have to do that. But that's the kind of man you are, sacrificing yourself to help those you love. I'm sor-, sorry it took me _so_ long to see that. You're a good man."

Sean swallows hard and puts his hand on Gregory's shoulder. "Thanks Dad," he whispers.

"You are a free man again, Mr. Richards. You have been given a second chance at life. Please, use it wisely," the chairwoman of the parole board had told him.

Gregory tentatively pulls Sean into an embrace, hugging him awkwardly until Sean's arms wrap around Gregory and he responds to the hug. They stand there for a few moments before Gregory pulls back.

"I'm proud of you, Sean. _Very_ proud."

Sean clears his throat and reaches down for his keys. "I need to go into the office. But tell Mom I'll be back later for dinner. I know she's got something special planned." He puts on his sunglasses. "Bye Dad. See you tonight, little man."

Trey waves and calls out while chewing, "Bye Sean." As Gregory returns to his seat, Trey asks, "Aren't you hungry?"

"Good morning."

Both men turn around and see Olivia standing at the base of the back staircase wrapped in a long lilac colored robe. Her lips are turned up into a small smile and her hair is piled on top of her head.

"I see you two are getting reacquainted," she notes quietly as she walks over and places a kiss on Trey's head. "When did you get back sweetie?"

The young boy pats Olivia's hand as he looks back at her and says, "A long time ago…Aunt Bette dropped me off." He puts his fork down and sighs deeply as he stares longingly out the patio window. "I'm stuffed. Can I go swimming?"

Olivia glances at the clock and responds, "Go get changed. Put away the things that you took to Aunt Bette's and then you can go in."

"Hooray!" he cries as he scrambles out of the chair and to the stairs. "Gregory," he turns around and asks, "do you want to come swimming with me?"

He smiles and offers, "Maybe later?"

"Ok," Trey grins before running up the stairs.

Olivia smiles affectionately as she hears Trey's footsteps stampeding down the hallway above them. She smiles down at Gregory. "Good morning to you."

He stands up and takes her in his arms. "Morning," he says as he kisses her cheek and kisses his way over to her lips. She wraps her arms around his waist and nuzzles against his neck. He rubs the back of her neck and sighs contentedly. "He's wonderful. A very affectionate and sensitive child."

She pulls back and agrees, "He is." Gregory sits back down in his chair and pulls her down to his lap. "He was very excited to meet you," she adds.

"Was he?"

Olivia nods. "Mm-hmm," she sighs as she rests her head against his.

"I'm surprised that he knew about me…given how his fath-, _Cole_ feels about me," Gregory mutters.

Placing her hand on his chest, she whispers, "Of course he knows about you. Look around darling…Pictures of you are scattered throughout the house. You're _everywhere_ here." She sighs. "Speaking of Cole…He no longer lives in Sunset Beach."

Gregory looks up in surprise. "He doesn't?"

She shakes her head. "He got remarried three years ago. He moved north to Sonoma with his new wife…and _their_ son." She narrows her eyes and glances away. "He doesn't see Trey much. Just a few weeks during the summer and sporadic weekend visits."

He turns her head back around to face him. "How is Trey adjusting to that?"

Olivia smiles sadly. "He's fine. Sean has-…He's been a wonderful influence on Trey. They're very close." She rests her head back against Gregory and closes her eyes. "I'm so happy you're home," she says softly.

Gregory pulls her face down to his and stares deeply into her eyes. "Me too." He kisses her mouth again, sucking on her bottom lip for a moment before breaking away. "Do you know what he called me?"

"Trey?" she asks before Gregory nods. "No…What?"

" 'The man that Mommy loves'."

She blushes deeply and laughs softly as she turns her face into Gregory's neck. "He's perceptive too…Did I mention that?"

Gregory chuckles and rubs her back comfortingly. "He asked me if I loved you." She raises her head and meets his dark brown eyes with her blue ones. "He was pleased that I did and he also mentioned how happy you've been this past week."

She smiles sheepishly and rests her forehead against his. "Do you really need to even ask why?"

"No," he whispers, "because I feel the same way."

The moment is interrupted by the sound of feet storming down the stairway.

"Goin' swimmin'!" Trey shouts as he runs through the kitchen and out the patio door. A moment later, Gregory and Olivia hear him shout, "Geronimo!" and a loud splash.

Olivia looks at Gregory and grins. "He has an endless supply of energy. I usually need two cups of coffee in the mornings to keep up with him." She stands up and extends her hand down to him. "Let's go sit outside."

Gregory takes her hand and allows her to lead him outdoors. For the first time in years, he is able to sit outdoors and enjoy the sun without the confines of armed guards or barbwire. He stretches out on a cushioned lounge that affords him a full view of Trey splashing around in the shallow end and he smiles when Olivia cuddles up next to him on the same chair.

He has what he wanted more than life…The woman he loves in his arms and the child he adores within his eyesight.

And for right now, that's enough.

****

End


End file.
